When you are accompanied by the instrument - on an instrument like the lute-the lute and voice - you have this sound, and you feel how the music can be so touching and yet so simple.
quote by Cecilia Bartoli
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Me the instrument
Music is in my mind
Iam full of glee
My fingers tapping the table
While my palms beat as a drum
My lips pucker and being to whistle
Iam really feeling this souful strum
My feet tapping the floor
It is really fun
Allowing my body to be an instrument
As I gaze at sun
For there is music on the inside
A harmonic hum
If I gave this instrument a name
Iam not quiet sure what it would be
Therefore to keep things simple and
From becoming complicate
I shall simply term this authentic instrument as Me
poem by Angel A. Lockwood
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Music Comes And Goes
by: Tripp
the soothing sounds of a piano to a guitar the sounds they make
the feeling It brings when the piano sings playing the strings of a guitar
the times come and goes as the music grows
in the heart of those who play
thinking of that one thing that brings epiphany to that instrument you play
as you hold and take care playing with hopes and dreams the music slips through
and sings
i can't get enough of what it does to me
when i hear that sound that voice
the music she brings to my heart when I'm with her
her voice is the epiphany to my heart
holding on to her the music keeps playing
my heart keeps beating as the music plays
i keep dreaming dreaming holding on hoping this song will never end
dreaming to fall in love with this instrument forever
she is my instrument
poem by Preston Trip
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The Chain I Gave: From The Turkish
The chain I gave was fair to view,
The lute I added sweet in sound;
The heart that offer'd both was true,
And ill deserved the fate it found.
These gifts were charm'd by secret spell,
Thy truth in absence to divine;
And they have done their duty well,
Alas! they could not teach the thine.
That chain was firm in every link,
But not to bear a stranger's touch;
That lute was sweet, till thou could'st think
In other hands its notes were such.
Let him who from thy neck unbound
The chain which shiver'd in his grasp,
Who saw that lute refuse to sound,
Restring the chords, renew the clasp.
When thou wert changed, they alter'd too;
The chain is broke, the music mute.
'Tis past, to them and thee adieu
False heart, frail chain, and silent lute.
It is better to stay hungry
Simple Flat drum, a percussion instrument,
made of animal skin is better than a Lute
which, if it lacks in producing melodious note;
A chaste woman is better than men
who are not worth of their prowess;
It is better to stay hungry than eating
an improperly cooked and rotten food;
It is better to immolate in fire
than to leave and live separately
from the people who like and love us!
(NaanmaNik katikai 13)
poem by V.K. Kanniappan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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El Lute
This is the story of el lute
A man who was born to be hunted like a wild animal
Because he was poor
But he refused to accept his fate
And today his honor has been restored
He was only nineteen
And he was sentenced to die
For something that somebody else did
And blamed on el lute
Then they changed it to life
And so he could escape
From then on they chased him
And searched for him day and night
All over spain
But the search was in vain for el lute
He had only seen the dark side of life
The man they called el lute
And he wanted a home just like you and like me
In a country where all would be free
So he taught himself to read and to write
It didnt help el lute
He was one who had dared to escape overnight
They had to find el lute
Soon the fame of his name
Spread like wild fire all over the land
With a price on his head
People still gave him bread
And they gave him a hand
For they knew he was right
And his fight was their fight
No one gave you a chance
In the spain of those days
On the walls every place they had put up
The face of el lute
And he robbed where he could just like once robin hood
They finally caught him and
That seemed the end
But they caught him in vain
Cause a change came for spain
And el lute
He had only seen the dark side of life
The man they called el lute
And he wanted a home just like you and like me
In a country where all would be free
And then freedom really came to his land
And also to el lute
Now he walks in the light of a sunny new day
The man they called el lute
song performed by by Boney M.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Lute Awake
My lute awake! perform the last
Labour that thou and I shall waste,
And end that I have now begun;
For when this song is sung and past,
My lute be still, for I have done.
As to be heard where ear is none,
As lead to grave in marble stone,
My song may pierce her heart as soon;
Should we then sigh or sing or moan?
No, no, my lute, for I have done.
The rocks do not so cruelly
Repulse the waves continually,
As she my suit and affection;
So that I am past remedy,
Whereby my lute and I have done.
Proud of the spoil that thou hast got
Of simple hearts thorough Love's shot,
By whom, unkind, thou hast them won,
Think not he hath his bow forgot,
Although my lute and I have done.
Vengeance shall fall on thy disdain
That makest but game on earnest pain.
Think not alone under the sun
Unquit to cause thy lovers plain,
Although my lute and I have done.
Perchance thee lie wethered and old
The winter nights that are so cold,
Plaining in vain unto the moon;
Thy wishes then dare not be told;
Care then who list, for I have done.
And then may chance thee to repent
The time that thou hast lost and spent
To cause thy lovers sigh and swoon;
Then shalt thou know beauty but lent,
And wish and want as I have done.
Now cease, my lute; this is the last
Labour that thou and I shall waste,
And ended is that we begun.
Now is this song both sung and past:
My lute be still, for I have done.
poem by Sir Thomas Wyatt
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Lute Awake
My lute awake! perform the last
Labour that thou and I shall waste,
And end that I have now begun;
For when this song is sung and past,
My lute be still, for I have done.
As to be heard where ear is none,
As lead to grave in marble stone,
My song may pierce her heart as soon;
Should we then sigh or sing or moan?
No, no, my lute, for I have done.
The rocks do not so cruelly
Repulse the waves continually,
As she my suit and affection;
So that I am past remedy,
Whereby my lute and I have done.
Proud of the spoil that thou hast got
Of simple hearts thorough Love's shot,
By whom, unkind, thou hast them won,
Think not he hath his bow forgot,
Although my lute and I have done.
Vengeance shall fall on thy disdain
That makest but game on earnest pain.
Think not alone under the sun
Unquit to cause thy lovers plain,
Although my lute and I have done.
Perchance thee lie wethered and old
The winter nights that are so cold,
Plaining in vain unto the moon;
Thy wishes then dare not be told;
Care then who list, for I have done.
And then may chance thee to repent
The time that thou hast lost and spent
To cause thy lovers sigh and swoon;
Then shalt thou know beauty but lent,
And wish and want as I have done.
Now cease, my lute; this is the last
Labour that thou and I shall waste,
And ended is that we begun.
Now is this song both sung and past:
My lute be still, for I have done.
poem by David McKee Wright
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The basic notion was the idea that the loudspeaker should have a voice which was unique and not just an instrument of reproduction, but an instrument unto itself.
quote by David Tudor
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In the piano, one has the instrument complete before he begins; but in the case of the voice, the instrument has to be developed by study.
quote by Alma Gluck
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My voice is my improvisational instrument, the melody instrument. The guitar is harmonic structure. I'm not a good enough guitarist to improvise on it.
quote by Paul Simon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Lute, Awake
My labor that thou and I shall waste
And end that I have now begun,
For when this song is sung and past,
My lute, be still, for I have done.
As to be heard where ear is none,
As lead to grave in marble stone,
My song may pierce her heart as soon.
Should we then sigh or sing or moan?
No, no, my lute, for I have done.
Proud of the spoil that thou hast got
Of simple hearts through love's shot,
By whom, unkind, thou hast them won,
Think not he hath his bow forgot,
Although my lute and I have done.
Vengance shall fall on thy disdain
That makest but game on earnest pain;
Think not alone under the sun
Unquit to cause thy lovers plain
Although my lute and I have done.
Perchance thee lie withered and old
The winter nights that are so cold,
Plaining in vain unto the moon;
Thy wishes then dare not be told.
Care then who list, for I have done.
And then may chance thee to repent
The time that thou hast lost and spnt
To cause thy lovers sigh and swoon;
Then shalt thou know beauty but lent,
And wish and want as I have done.
Now cease, my lute, this is the last
Labor that thou and I shall waste
And ended is that we begun.
Now is the song both sung and past;
My lute, be still, for I have done.
poem by Sir Thomas Wyatt
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To His Lute
MY lute, awake! perform the last
Labour that thou and I shall waste,
And end that I have now begun;
For when this song is said and past,
My lute, be still, for I have done.
As to be heard where ear is none,
As lead to grave in marble stone,
My song may pierce her heart as soon:
Should we then sing, or sigh, or moan?
No, no, my lute! for I have done.
The rocks do not so cruelly
Repulse the waves continually,
As she my suit and affectiòn;
So that I am past remedy:
Whereby my lute and I have done.
Proud of the spoil that thou hast got
Of simple hearts thorough Love's shot,
By whom, unkind, thou hast them won;
Think not he hath his bow forgot,
Although my lute and I have done.
Vengeance shall fall on thy disdain,
That makest but game of earnest pain:
Trow not alone under the sun
Unquit to cause thy lover's plain,
Although my lute and I have done.
May chance thee lie wither'd and old
The winter nights that are so cold,
Plaining in vain unto the moon:
Thy wishes then dare not be told:
Care then who list! for I have done.
And then may chance thee to repent
The time that thou has lost and spent
To cause thy lover's sigh and swoon:
Then shalt thou know beauty but lent,
And wish and want as I have done.
Now cease, my lute! this is the last
Labour that thou and I shall waste,
And ended is that we begun:
Now is this song both sung and past--
My lute, be still, for I have done.
poem by Sir Thomas Wyatt
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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L'envoy
Now in a thought, now in a shadowed word,
Now in a voice that thrills eternity,
Ever there comes an onward phrase to me
Of some transcendent music I have heard;
No piteous thing by soft hands dulcimered,
No trumpet crash of blood-sick victory,
But a glad strain of some vast harmony
That no brief mortal touch has ever stirred.
There is no music in the world like this,
No character wherewith to set it down,
No kind of instrument to make it sing.
No kind of instrument? Ah, yes, there is;
And after time and place are overthrown,
God’s touch will keep its one chord quivering.
poem by Edwin Arlington Robinson
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The thing is, if you control the Senate meetings, you control the gavel. And the gavel is a very important instrument... an instrument of power. An instrument that establishes the agenda.
quote by Dan Quayle
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To his Friend Master R. L., In Praise of Music and Poetry
If music and sweet poetry agree,
As they must needs (the sister and the brother),
Then must the love be great 'twixt thee and me,
Because thou lov'st the one, and I the other.
Dowland to thee is dear, whose heavenly touch
Upon the lute doth ravish human sense;
Spenser to me, whose deep conceit is such
As, passing all conceit, needs no defence.
Thou lov'st to hear the sweet melodious sound
That Ph{oe}bus' lute (the queen of music), makes;
And I in deep delight am chiefly drown'd
Whenas himself to singing he betakes.
One god is god of both (as poets feign),
One knight loves both, and both in thee remai
poem by Richard Barnfield
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Singing instrumental music is most important because, while you play an instrument, you are singing through the instrument... actually, you are singing inside.
quote by Ali Akbar Khan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Body Conscious
The human body
Is a precision instrument
How do you play your instrument?
Do you only seek to gratify the taste buds?
By eating large amounts of fat, salt and sugar?
Instead of what your body needs and asks for?
“How do I know what my body needs? ”
By becoming body conscious
By making sweet music
Of good health
poem by Ray Lucero
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Instrument
I'm nothing
Except an instrument
It is you to use me
As you like
The lose is yours
The gain is yours
You are my creator
You are my sustainer
You are my destroyer
I'm nothing
You do whatever you like
I'm just an instrument
Use me as you like.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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The cello is such a melancholy instrument, such an isolated, miserable instrument.
quote by Ritchie Blackmore
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Interested
Your favorite food
What you like to do
Your favorite color
or any other
The thing on your mind
That you like to share
Cause I can stay here
And listen to every word
Because I'm interested
Can I be an instrument
For changing your life
Is that all right?
Because I'm interested
I'd rather be with you instead
Than anyone else
Cause I'm interested in your middle name
Now don't be ashamed, Naw
It's between me and you
Everything you do
Let your guard down
Because there's a new girl in town
gonna turn it around
I hope that you are down
Because I'm interested
Can I be your instrument
In changing your life
Is that allright?
Because I'm interested
I'd rather be with you instead
of anyone else
I'm wide open
No more secrets
No lie
Don't wanna live like a fool
But I will
For you
So I'll beg
I'll scream
I'll call
I'll write
If that's what it takes for you to be in my life
Because I'm interested
And I'll be an instrument
In changing your life
Is that all right?
Because I'm interested
And I rather be with you instead
Of anyone else
Oh No
Because I'm interested
And I'll be an instrument
In changing your life
Is that all right?
Because I'm interested
And I rather be with you instead
Of anyone else (fade)
song performed by by India Arie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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